


The Price of Mortality

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: 365 Days of Fandom [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss, M/M, Memories, Mortality, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation, Scars, Secrets, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: The effects that SEP had on Gabriel were visible, undeniable, but he wasn't the only one that suffered from 'side effects'. Only Jack's was a secret, hidden beneath the surface of his skin, tearing him apart every time he survived something that should have killed him, until all he wanted was for it to end.





	The Price of Mortality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaidenM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenM/gifts).



   The Soldier rolled to the side, grunting as a second bullet tore into his side, but not faltering as he surged back to his feet already returning fire as his visor lit up with multiple contacts. _So much for a small operation,_ he thought, making a note to have a word with his information if…when he got out of here. His expression darkened behind his mask. It was always ‘when’, never ‘if’ even in a mess like this where he was outnumbered by more than ten to one, and a familiar haze clouded his thoughts, and now he faltered, letting his gun fall back down to his side, his shoulders hunching. There was a moment, there always was, when his opponents hesitated, unsure of what to make of the change in his demeanour and his lips drew back in a snarl.

“Fire.” It was a commanding tone that he hadn’t used in months, years. Not since the world had burnt around him, but it still carried clearly through the room. It still demanded obedience, and his snarl became a smile of satisfaction as gunfire rang through the room.

    His body was flung backwards under the onslaught, his body screaming at him agony, as bullets tore bloody furrows through his body, while deeper, blossoms of pain formed across his torso. He embraced it all, a wild laugh, that sounded more like the cry of a wounded animal breaking through as he hit the ground hard. He could feel his blood pooling beneath him, his half-ruined vision growing hazier with each aching breath that he managed to take, his grip on the pulse rifle faltering as his strength fled and his smile softened as he felt himself beginning to slip. Falling away into the darkness, as first his sight and hearing faded, and the pain began to dull and…

There was a moment, a split second of peace where the pain disappeared as his breath stuttered and his heart went still.

It didn’t last.

It never lasted.

   With a gasping cry, Jack Morrison came back to life, chest heaving. His body was a bloody mess, each tiny movement sending pain lancing through his wounds…but he was alive. He was alive. He didn’t move, not sure that he could right now, and lacking the will to try. _I wanted this to be over._ He lay where he had fallen, knowing that it wouldn’t take them long to realise that his chest was rising and falling again. He wondered if they would shoot him again, or perhaps they would try something slower and more painful. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he swallowed, wondering how long it would take them to realise that it wasn’t working.

That nothing worked.

    Normally, that would have been enough to force him back to his feet, staggering and bleeding, trying to avoid more scars. As whatever tied him here, stopping him from slipping away, didn’t protect him from the wounds he took in his search for death and his body was a tapestry of scars, some still raised and ropey from recent battles, while others were pale with age. Today. On this date, and in this place, he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was no point, not anymore. If there had ever been a point, and slowly he let his head loll to his side as he opened his eyes once more. It was hard to see, the visor flickering and casting static across his vision from where it had been damaged by the same gunfire that had downed him, but it was enough, and he felt a familiar burn in his eyes as he glimpsed the ruined remains of the Zurich base looming in the distance. A lonely sentinel against the winter sky, a memorial for so many lives…and for a life that should have ended a long time before.

_Please, I want…_

    There was movement behind him as his assailants finally began to creep towards him, and he found himself tilting his head towards them. There was no satisfaction in seeing the fear and uncertainty that had crept onto their faces as they realised that he was alive, and he closed his eyes. _I know that I’m a monster._ They would draw this out, he realised, a chill settling over him. Yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to get up, to fight, because even if he did nothing would change. Nothing would end, and he was tired.

    He waited. Biting his lip to hold back a groan as he tensed, bracing himself for the pain to come. Knowing that there would be no escape and that he was going to feel every moment of it. _Perhaps they will push too far. Perhaps they will find a way._ It was a wish. A hope that he would never dare to voice aloud around anyone else, although he had a feeling that Ana suspected, especially after her latest lecture about his ‘recklessness’ that had seen them part ways for a little while, so that she wouldn’t have to watch him ‘kill himself.’ He almost laughed at that, wondering what she would say or do if she realised that was the last thing she needed to worry about. _If she even believed me,_ he thought bitterly.

He had tried to tell Gabriel about it once.

_He had been in the infirmary after an assassination attempt had slipped through both Blackwatch and the security detail that the U.N. had insisted he has at all times – as though he couldn’t protect himself. Everyone had thought that he was dead. Hell, the soldier that had pulled him from the burning wreckage of the car was two beds over being treated, and Jack could still hear him swearing blind that the Strike Commander had been dead. That there had been no heartbeat and no pulse. Jack could hear Angela and McCree trying to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, that he must’ve been in shock and made a mistake, but Jack knew differently._

_He knew that he had been dead._

_He could remember it, the impact as something had struck the side of the car — the realisation that they were spinning off the road, the world whirling around him and then fire, and pain. He hadn’t been able to move. He couldn’t breathe. He remembered the second he had realised that he wasn’t getting out of there and that brief, moment of peace that had followed as everything had disappeared._

_The car. The fire. The pain._

_Then it had all been back, and he was out on the side of the road in agony, but alive and staring into the shocked face of the man who had pulled him free of the wreckage._

_And now here he was, covered in bandages, machines beeping around him and a mask over his mouth and nose, reminding him that he was alive. That he was breathing. More than a dozen people had tried to tell him that it was a miracle, but Jack knew better. Just as he knew that he should be dead right now, just as he should have been dead a hundred times before and his heart ached as he turned away, trying to block out the soldier’s protests, the whispers of people passing by. It wasn’t a miracle; it was a curse._

_At some point he must’ve dozed off, because when he’d come to it was to find Gabriel slumped in the seat beside his bed, cradling one of his hands between both of his, exhaustion and concern written across his face._

_“G-Gabe?” His voice had been rough and so soft that he expected it to be swallowed up in the sound of the infirmary, but Gabriel immediately straightened, a weary grin brightening his features as he leant forward._

_“Welcome back.” There was a wealth of feeling in those words, the most that they would allow themselves out here in public, but Jack could hear the fear, the worries, the urge to scold him for getting into danger even though he hadn’t been at fault and his lips quirked in a fond smile, which fell away at the next question. “How are you feeling?”_

_Like hell, he thought, pausing to take stock of his body. Every part of him seemed to be throbbing, to the point where he couldn’t tell what was injured and what was just joining in with the protest and he shrugged, before adding softly._

_“I shouldn’t be here.” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and he regretted it as soon as he saw the pain and guilt that flickered across Gabriel’s face._

_“Jack, I know that you nearly died and that we failed to prevent this, but…”_

_“No, that’s not what I mean,” Jack cut him off sharply, refusing to listen to Gabriel blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. They both knew about the threats on his life, and he had always made it clear that he was just as responsible for protecting himself as everyone else was, hitting the roof when one of his guards had promised to protect him with his life once. He had never wanted that kind of responsibility, that kind of sacrifice, even before he had started to realise that something was wrong. That SEP had left another kind of mark on his body. He swallowed, glancing down and taking in the bandages covering his torso, knowing that the damage would remain. It always remained, and no one had ever thought to question how he had lived through so many events that had left marks like this. “I was dead, Gabriel. I died in that car, and I should still be dead.”_

_“Jack…”_

_“I was DEAD!” Jack’s voice rose, and they both tensed as silence fell over the infirmary for a moment, and he shrank in on himself, waiting for everyone to go back to what they were doing before admitting softly. “This isn’t the first time.”_

_“Jack,” Gabriel was the one to cut him off this time, voice low and soothing, the same tone that Jack had heard him adopt with civilians in the field and he started to bristle before the words had even registered.  “You’ve had a huge shock. You’re lucky to still be alive if we’d been a few minutes later finding you…” Then we would have lost you… Jack heard the unspoken words and his irritation faded, leaving him just feeling exhausted._

_“But…”_

      Gabriel hadn’t believed him, reassuring him that it was just shock and the strain of his injuries, and after that Jack hadn’t been able to bring himself to talk about it. Instead, he tried to test it the best that he could. Taking chances. Going out into the field against advice. Slipping away from his guards. In retrospect, he could see why he had come under suspicion, but at the time, it had been all that he’d had. The only way to convince himself that he wasn’t going mad. He wasn’t sure that it had worked, because there was only so many times that you could creep back from the edge of death, before something began to break, splinters spreading through mind and soul until when Zurich had fallen, he was already teetering on the edge of shattering completely.

_And look at me now…_

    He wasn’t aware of the laughter bubbling up between bloody lips, the dampness on his cheeks, or the way his assailants had faltered at the sound. _Who am I kidding? I shattered a long time ago…_ All that was left was a broken shell and a man who had nothing but anger and the hunt, the aching, empty longing for death that led him to situation after situation like this. He might have remained like that until someone put a bullet between his eyes, granting him a second of peace, but there was a new sound now, a heavier tread behind the others and finally, he moved. He had just tilted his head towards the sound, blinking tears out of his eyes, when the room erupted in gunfire…and over the panicked shouts, and the sporadic bursts of automated weapons, he heard the familiar, sharp retort of heavy shotguns and his breath caught in his chest.

Reaper.

    He refused to let himself think the other name. Refused to watch as the mercenary tore through the same men that had brought him to the ground moments before, falling back on to his back, eyes fixated on the sky. _Why is he here?_ He couldn’t miss the irony of the situation, not with Zurich looming over them, the ghosts screaming louder than usual as Reaper moved towards him.

“What the hell are you playing at Jack?” Reaper it seemed didn’t have the same reservations, and Jack blinked as he realised that the gunfire had died around, the silence that was stretching around them telling him that they were the only ones left alive. That should have sparked a sense of fear, but Jack only felt numb as Gabriel prowled towards him, the cold feel of his mist reaching his exposed skin first, and then the other man was there, looming over him, with one shotgun levelled at his head. “I know you’re not so far gone to be taken down by men like this.”

“What do you care?” Jack hadn’t meant to reply, but the words had crept out, harsher than he had intended. “You made it clear that we’re playing different games now.” _Not different sides,_ he had worked out long ago that they were both in the same messy grey that existed between who they had been, and the people who had torn them to shreds. That they were both looking for answers. It had been there in the shot to the back that had so deliberately missed anything that would kill him, not that it would have mattered… and in the way, he would find little messages, tips, with Sombra’s name on the bottom, information that she would never have offered of her own accord.

But it didn’t make them allies.

“That doesn’t mean that I want you dead,” Gabriel murmured, reaching up with his free hand to nudge his mask aside, giving Jack a clear view at the ruined features beneath, the smoke that drifted in and out of gaps that appeared and faded even as he watched. It also meant that he couldn’t hide from the sincerity in the crimson eyes that were now locked on him, and he was the first one to look away, tilting his head away.

“That’s a shame,” he whispered. He was still bleeding he realised, vision flickering again, and he laughed, a horrible broken sound, and he heard rather than saw Gabriel shifting uneasily. “Because I wish I were.”

“Jack…?” It was a different voice, harsh and rasping and speaking of hardships that Jack could only begin to guess at, but it was the same confusion that had confronted him all those years ago in the infirmary, and this time Jack snapped.

“Did you think you think you were the only one that SEP fucked up?” He snarled, turning back to look at Gabriel, just in time to see the pain and anger that passed over the other man’s face. What had happened back then had been a sore point between them long before everything had collapsed, especially when he had inadvertently stumbled across the methods that Gabriel had been using to try and get answers about what had been done to him. He hadn’t understood, or maybe he hadn’t wanted to understand, because he had been dealing with his own curse…alone, unable to bring himself to reach out for help, to search for answers in the places that Gabriel had been looking, and he had lashed out. “That you were the only who shouldn’t have crawled out of Zurich?”

“Morrison…” Anger was shining through now, Gabriel’s voice little more than a growl and for the first time in ages, Jack felt a similar spark of anger breaking through the numbness. Reaching up he shoved the gun away, groaning as he pushed himself up and knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to do this for long, shadows dancing at the edge of his vision. However, he refused to stop, pushing himself up and staggering back to his feet. He heard the other man’s sharp intake of breath as he got a good look at the damage, and even as he stumbled, nearly ending up back on the ground, he held up his hands to stop Gabriel moving closer.

“I died in Zurich, Gabriel.” He didn’t sound as angry as he had intended, just tired and broken, and seeing the protest forming he gingerly moved to remove his damaged coat. It hurt, peeling it away and as he let it fall away, he admitted to himself that just like him, it might be beyond saving at this point. He ignored Gabriel’s questions, fingers shaking as he slowly began to peel away the under armour, unable to stop himself from gasping as it came away from still bleeding wounds and for a moment there was nothing but white noise.

    When he came back to himself, it was to find Gabriel at his side, both guns banished and an arm wrapped around his back, keeping him upright. He didn’t argue as the other man helped him finish removing the armour, and the vest underneath, trying not to think of happier times…of warm fingers trailing over his skin, of lips trailing kisses along old scars.

    By the time it was off, he was dizzy and clinging to consciousness through sheer stubbornness alone, and it took him a minute or two of heavy blinking to focus enough to see that Gabriel was rigid beside him. An undefinable emotion on his face, as his eyes slowly moved across Jack’s body. There were the fresh wounds that Jack knew he would need to take care of sooner rather than later, as he had learned the hard way that his curse didn’t stop him from suffering from infection…and then there were the scars. “I died in Zurich,” he repeated, slowly lifting a hand to the worst of the scars, a large sprawling patch of discoloured skin on his side where the rebar had pierced him. “I died in that assassination attempt,” he continued, moving across to a long scar on his shoulder where the explosion had forced shrapnel deep inside, the skin around it marbled and mottled with burn scars. “I died that day we stormed that Omnic compound in San Diego,” he touched his fingers to a scar just above his heart.

“Stop…”

“No,” Jack whispered. “You need to hear me this time.” _Please, I can’t be alone with this anymore,_ he thought, moving on and almost robotically listing each and every scar on his body. It was only when he reached the last few, the ones where he had been ‘reckless’ and deliberately tried to throw himself in harm's way that he faltered unable to bring himself to look at Gabriel. He couldn’t help but feel the way Gabriel flinched though, the tension in the arm supporting him increasing with each word that he spoke.

     As his fingers brushed the last scar, he sighed, before reaching up and clumsily beginning to unclasp his mask. Hesitating as he reached the last one. Not even Ana had seen him completely unmasked, because he knew that you only to look at him to know that there was something more going on. That he was more than an enhanced soldier with strange luck that stopped him from dying. However, he had come this far, and he could feel Gabriel watching, waiting, fingers biting into his back now, and slowly he undid the final clasp, letting both parts of the mask fall away with a clatter, not even flinching as the delicate tech struck the ground at his feet. He felt exposed. Vulnerable, and it took every ounce of strength he had left to turn his head and meet Gabriel’s gaze, and his voice was little more than a whisper as he finished softly.

“Gabriel…I can’t die.” He saw the crimson eyes widen as they landed on features that hadn’t changed beyond the scar that now transected his face, and the realisation as Gabriel heard the words that he hadn’t said. _And I want to die._

    Then the world started to spin around him, his injuries finally taking their toll on him and he was only distantly aware of his knees buckling, of everything falling away, and Gabriel’s voice ringing in his ears, and for a moment he was a lifetime away…and it was a different Gabriel grabbing him and lowering him to the ground, and as his eyes drifted shut he was struck by the realisation that he could almost be happy if he died like this.

_Please, just let this be it…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be more to this :D


End file.
